


All these years

by InLust



Series: We all start somewhere [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Flirting, Fluff, Mentions of Rape, Modern AU, PTO meetings, Single Parent AU, adult conversations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 18:36:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5386208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InLust/pseuds/InLust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa and Margaery need to stop arguing at PTO meetings. The only way that could happen is if they actually talked to each other about what happened at Uni.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All these years

**Author's Note:**

> So this was originally single parent AU...then I got caught up with a little backstory so it got a little angsty. If you’re in the mood for feels. Here’s a roller coaster full of them.

“You can’t  _honestly_ believe that spending half of the budget on  _decorations_ is fiscally responsible,” Sansa says with a look of disbelief blatantly across her face. She’s looking across the conference table as if the woman sitting across from her was completely stupid.

Margaery scoffs at the redhead across the table from her. She leans back in her seat regally. “I am not saying that we  _have_ to,” she reiterates for what feels like the tenth time, “You asked who was in charge of decorations and what our projected costs would be and  _that_ is what I answered for you.”

“You have also known the budget since the  _beginning_ of the year. So I don’t understand why your projected costs couldn’t have been more  _reasonable_.”

“Oh, it’s for the  _kids_. It’s not something  _extravagant_.”

At the other end of the table, Cersei Lannister is trying to relax. But she opens up her canteen and takes a swig of it before leaning over to mutter to her brother.

“Don’t they ever  _stop_?”

Tyrion perks up from his nap and looks around the room. He registers the sound of Margaery and Sansa arguing. “Ah, they’re  _still_ at it?”

Cersei hits her brother with her metal canteen and says, “You’re the Vice President of this wretched organization, can you _kick them out_  or something?”

Tyrion stifles a laugh. “As if I’d ever let them stop, I am just waiting to see when they’ll start dating.”

His sister looks disgusted before she goes back to sitting back in her seat, drinking the wine from her canteen.  _Classic Cersei._

The argument is cut short however, when Principal Baratheon clears his throat. Both women shut up instantly.  “Our planning stages for the holiday party for the kids are still far in advance. Sansa rework the numbers. Margaery adjust the decorations accordingly.”

Margaery opens her mouth to say something and then Sansa’s hot on her trail to respond when the principal interjects once more, “That’s  _enough_ ,  _girls_.” Suddenly they feel like they’re 16 years old again and both of them nod.

Margaery looks up and sees Sansa staring daggers at her. What she does in return? Blow her a kiss. Just like that, Sansa’s face turns as red as her hair.

At the corner of her eyes, she sees Stannis glower at her. Margaery does her best to turn her attention to Cersei’s updates on the programming for the parents. In the corner of her eyes, she can see Sansa paying attention and diligently writing down the dates. Of course, Sansa still goes above and beyond.

When the meeting is over, Margaery watches as Sansa picks up her date book and cellphone and throws it into her bag with the stack of papers peeking out. Just as she is about to make her own way out, she hears her name being called.

“ _Margaery_ , a word,” and Stannis Baratheon scares the crap out of her.

Margaery watches as the parents and teachers file out of the room. She sees a distinct gleeful look on Cersei’s face as she walks by and Tyrion just shrugs at her.

“Mr. Baratheon,” she greets.

Stannis is an imposing man. He doesn’t fool around  _ever_ , which is why the high school has the highest graduation rate in the nation. She went to school under this man and now she’s a teacher, it’s a step up.

“It’s seems that you and Ms. Stark share some  _animosity_.”

Margaery shrugs. “It’s nothing of the sort. We just share  _opposing_ viewpoints on matters.”

Stannis narrows his eyes. “It’s not my place, nor would I like it to be,  _however_ , it has seem your  _relationship_ with her has  _changed_ in the recent years since your return from University. You are both excellent educators, so I would suggest you both work on becoming better role models for students to deal with conflict.”

Margaery curses to herself as if she had just gotten busted. Maybe he had heard about that argument her and Sansa shared across the hall. “ _Of course_ ,” she complies shakily. Her job is at stake after all.

“It’s a shame, you two were  _thick as thieves_  in high school together,” Stannis remarks as he slips on his jacket.

Margaery watches as he leaves. She couldn’t agree more.

\--------------------------

It’s early in the morning before all the students arrive at school. Margaery has already had her morning run and has a piping hot coffee in her hand to deal with the wintry air.

While there’s barely anyone in the school Margaery takes the time to grade papers and center herself before the day starts. The silence lets her think on her own and organize what she needs to for the day if not the week.

She thinks about Stannis’ words at one point and muses to herself. To think that she and Sansa would end up back here. It’s been almost ten years since high school and somehow they fell on the same track for school and in the middle of Third Year, Sansa just  _drops off_. She goes missing for almost a whole  _year_  before returning to walk across the stage for commencement.

Sansa stopped talking to her just like that. Just out of the blue. Maybe Margaery should’ve seen the signs, the late nights, sometimes not coming back to the apartment days at a time, not responding to texts. Maybe Sansa just didn’t love Margaery anymore and up and left her.

They never talked since Sansa left. Margaery found out second hand that Sansa went abroad to Essos for a semester before going back to Winterfell to finish her courses  _online_.

Margaery sighs as she leans back in her seat and looks across the hall. During the day, Sansa would occupy that room, happily teaching without a care. But she looks different.  _Older. Wiser._

Margaery wonders if she looks the same while she teaches.

Maybe she should talk to Sansa. Actually  _talk_ to her.

The thought makes Margaery cringe. She doesn’t want to talk about her feelings.  _Never again._  She vows to never have to do that again. She’s moved on from  _whatever_ she had with Sansa.

If Sansa never wanted to talk to her again outside of the classroom,  _well fine._

A pair of heels click against the floor and Margaery recognizes them instantly. The only other person ever here this early would be Sansa.

Margaery busies herself with grading the last few papers she’s been procrastinating on.  _Thank god it’s Friday._

She listens at the keys jingling across the hall. Sansa’s having trouble opening the door again. Margaery just stays focused on her work.

Sansa huffs loudly. “Margaery, can you open this door for me?”

Margaery leans back in her seat with a surprised look on her face. That was probably the first time Sansa’s been willing to say anything to Margaery since they’ve started working together.

Sansa glares at Margaery after a second. “Are you going to help me or not?”

Margaery throws her pen onto her desk and gets up. As she gets to the door, Sansa doesn’t give her enough space and she can smell her. Roses and lavender fills her senses. She shakes her head and grabs the keys that are stuck in the knob. With an aggressive twist of her wrist, the door unlocks and pops open for Margaery.

Sansa stares in awe. “Thank you,” she mutters quickly.

Margaery smiles at that. “If you ever need a hand, you know how mine  _work_ ,” she casually says holding the keys for Sansa.

The English teacher looks aghast at her statement and snatches the keys away from her. “You should stop procrastinating, your students are starting to take after you,” she throws back.

The History teacher glowers back before stalking back to her room. She tries to hold the smirk back knowing that she made Sansa flustered. Just because they didn’t talk anymore, doesn’t mean that Margaery should ever pass up an opportunity to tease a beautiful woman.

Margaery finishes the first half of the day with ease. No hiccups. No students jumping out the window. No arguments with the English teacher across the hall. It’s only then that she realizes, it’s significantly quiet across the hall.

When she looks over, one of her students catches her and says, “Ms. Stark said she had an emergency so now we have a substitute!”

It wasn’t uncommon for the two years they’ve worked together, there were times when Sansa had family emergencies closer to the winter. Although, to be quite frank, Margaery didn’t know there were more Starks in King’s Landing. Margaery tries not to worry over whatever Sansa’s emergency is.

\--------------------------

Margaery decides that Friday is her off day before her cousins rage at her to go out to the bar. So she strolls up and down the aisles thinking about what food she can cheat with for the week. She’s already got two bottles of wine on the list, that was a start.

She really shouldn’t but she knew the chances of her playing designated driver was pretty high.

She’s going through the ice cream aisle when suddenly something bumps into her legs.

“Oof!” the little human sounds rushing into Margaery’s jacket.

Margaery looks down and sees a mat of red hair. “I’m sorry,” she says automatically. She knows better than to be rude to children. “Are you alright?”

The little girl, looking no older than 7 years old, looks up and gasps.  _Great I scared her._  Then she starts apologizing, “I am sorry. I just lost mum.”

“ _Aww_ ,” Margaery comforts as she crouches down. The little girl must’ve been lost for a bit, she’s got red eyes from crying and her nose was red. “What’s your name?”

“Cat.”

“Alright then,  _Cat_ , what happen, where’d you lose your mum?”

“I don’t know…,” Cat looks down at her shoes. “Auntie Arry was playing with me and I ran.”

Margaery tries to decipher what the girl means.  _Is her mum with her or her aunt? Or both?_

“Alright, let’s try finding her, what’s her name?”

“Mummy!” the girl says cheerfully. She lets out a huge sneeze that startles Margaery.

Margaery tries not to sigh. _Of course, run into the child that doesn’t know mums have real names yet._ She holds out her hand for the little girl to hold. “Let’s go find your mum.”

They get to the end of the aisle, when they hear a pair of women arguing.

“I said I was sorry!”

“ _Sorry_ is not going to cut it, Arya!”

Margaery’s ear perks at the sound of Arya’s name.  _That’s definitely Sansa._ She turns and finds the sisters bickering. For a second, Margaery laughs to herself because they definitely haven’t changed. What she does realize is that Arya is there. Last she heard, Arya was in Braavos.

Suddenly, Cat yells, “Mummy!”

Margaery’s jaw practically unhinges as the little girl drags her with a vice grip towards the Stark sisters. _Oh god, please tell me this little isn’t mixing her up with Sansa. She’s got red hair but that’d be embarrassing._

“Catelyn!” Sansa yells with relief seeing the little girl approaching them. She bends down to capture Cat into her arms and picks her up. “You and Auntie Arry are never playing in the store again! You scared me so much.”

Margaery stares in confusion as she watches Sansa hug this little girl.  _This little girl that called her mummy. She is 7 years old. Which means…Sansa?_

Sansa realizes that Margaery is standing there with a dumb look on her face. She’s never looked more upset in her life than she did in that moment.

\--------------------------

Margaery doesn’t even know where she left the basket of wine, she was supposed to purchase. All she needs was air. She needs to breath.

She tries not to let it get to her. She tries not to let the fact that  _Sansa has a daughter_ get into her head.

_Her daughter has to be at least 7 years old. Sansa was 21. Essos. Winterfell. It suddenly all makes sense. Sansa leaving. She left me._

Margaery curses. There are tears burning her eyes and she doesn’t know why. The tightness in her chest grows.

_What the hell happened at uni?!_

Margaery fumbles through her jacket. Desperately wanting a cigarette. “ _Fuck_!” she yells, realizing that she quit three weeks ago. She curses again and kicks the trash can next to her.

“Margaery!” Sansa’s voice rings in her head. “Stop that!”

Margaery just lets the tears fall.  _Fuck_. 7,  _almost_ 8 years of not speaking to her. After letting their relationship  _die_ , of course, she can  _still_ hear Sansa’s voice in her head telling her not to do anything stupid.

It’s not in her head though. A pair of hands fall on her shoulders and Margaery is faced with Sansa.

The air becomes stifling and Margaery pulls away from Sansa’s grasp. She wipes her tears quickly, trying to calm herself.  _No. I don’t care. It’s her life. She can do whatever she wants. She has a kid. Fine. Fantastic. She cheated on you. Whatever._

Margaery takes a few deep breaths and realizes that Sansa is still standing there, looking at her with concern. “You should get back to your daughter,” she croaks. She clears her throat. “She lost you for a bit there.” She tries to stay as strong as possible.

“Margaery.” Sansa steps forward and Margaery retreats. “This--this  _isn’t_ how I wanted you to find out.”

Margaery nods and says sardonically, “Honestly, I don’t think you ever intended to tell me.” She adds a laugh. It’s ironic because she kind of wish she hadn’t. All she thinks about is if Sansa ever loved her to begin with.

“I wanted to!” Sansa insists as she steps towards Margaery again. Margaery stiffens. “Please, Margaery, I still--I  _care_ about you.”

Margaery feels the words sting in her chest. She has to know. More than anything else. She has to know. “Whose it is? Who’s the  _father_?”

Sansa swallows hard. Her eyes are full of tears.

For a second, Margaery doesn’t think she’s going to answer and she turns to walk away until she hears it.

“Bolton.”

Margaery knits her eyebrows and turns back to Sansa. “Bolton? As in the Bolton  _bastard_?” She feels an uncomfortable fire burn in her stomach as she approaches Sansa. She can’t believe it.

Sansa shakes her head and a tear slips down her cheek. “ _Professor_ Bolton.”

“What?” Margaery breathes out slowly in disbelief. “Professor Bolton was  _fired_ for  _raping_ a student.”

Sansa silently cries. Her hand to her mouth to stop herself. But she nods. She knows.

“You?” Margaery feels her heart break. Her chest tightens as she tries to think back. To reason against everything she’s ever known. “He--” She feels the quiver in her voice. “It was  _you_?”

The shame colors Sansa’s face more than ever. She looks distant like she did 7 years ago. But now, she looks hurt more than anything. And Margaery doesn’t know what to do. She doesn’t know.

“I’m sorry…” Sansa says through her tears. “I’m  _so sorry_ , Margaery.”

Margaery shakes her head. She throws her arms around Sansa quickly. “No,” she insists trying to wrap her head around everything. “You don’t have to apologize for what he did.” Her heart shakes inside of her. She can’t think of anything else to say and she just holds the taller woman in her arms. She breathes in that rose and lavender and it’s the only thing that soothes her.

When she evens her breath, Sansa starts to do the same. Margaery can still hear the sniffles but she doesn’t let go.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Sansa breathes out heavily, “Because I thought you wouldn’t love me anymore.”

Margaery holds her even tighter. “Sansa--- _shit. Gods. You’re so_ \---I  _love_ you. I never stopped. We would’ve gotten through it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Day 8 of Holiday Writing Dash


End file.
